


Strive for Stature (Transmutation)

by EmeraldHeiress



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Hood: Lost Days, Under the Red Hood
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bruce Wayne is a Bad Parent, Coming of Age, Culture, Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, Damian Wayne-centric, Don't copy to another site, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Kinda, Omega Jason Todd, Pack Bonding, Prompt Fic, Protective Jason Todd, Rites of Passage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:20:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21603643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldHeiress/pseuds/EmeraldHeiress
Summary: His knees brushed something under the desk, causing it to crinkle. Reaching under, Damian pulled out a piece of paper that had been taped underneath. His heart jumped as he smoothed it out and read the message inscribed on it League script.Coordinates, a time, and a reminder not to be seen.As if he needed such an admonishment. He was almost insulted.
Relationships: Jason Todd & Damian Wayne
Comments: 49
Kudos: 883





	Strive for Stature (Transmutation)

Damian sighed. Today marked three moons past his thirteenth name day. Were he still in the League, today would be a day of evaluation and feasting. It would be the day of his Proving and the day he would have officially taken the seat of Heir of the Demon’s Head. Not that he wanted that anymore. The seat, that is.

But it was still an important milestone. An important day. A day he was supposed to be sharing with his pack. His family. A coming of age celebration.

One he wasn’t getting.

Not that he could, given that he was no longer in the League. Not that he really expected to, given how busy Father and the rest of the pack had been lately. No time to pay attention to pups. No time for him.

That bothered him more than he liked to admit; the lack of care. The indifference.

He understood, of course, that the caseload was heavy right now.

The caseload was _always_ heavy.

Damian slid into his assigned seat in his first-period history class. Why Father made him attend this infantile academy he didn’t -

His knees brushed something under the desk, causing it to crinkle. Reaching under, Damian pulled out a piece of paper that had been taped underneath. His heart jumped as he smoothed it out and read the message inscribed on it League script.

Coordinates, a time, and a reminder not to be seen.

As if he needed such an admonishment. He was almost insulted.

This could… this could only be meant as his Proving. The dates were too coincidental. The timing too exact. But who could? Who would?

There was only one person that knew unless his mother had suddenly decided to take a fresh interest. Damian closed his eyes as he let the realization wash over him.

With some quick mental calculations, he determined it would take him the rest of the time allotted to travel to the location. He would need to leave shortly in order to make it.

A test. _The_ test. Navigation and timing.

That left…

Stealth.

Hand to hand.

Swordsmanship.

At least those were the traditional few… plus a handful more that were evaluated as parts of the other tests and specialties of the instructors. Balance, languages, and acrobatics were common additions.

If he was right…

An emotion stirred in his chest but he ruthlessly squashed it. He didn’t have time. Cautiously, he slipped out of the classroom and down the hall, the bell ringing behind him.

Damian mentally plotted his route through the city and to the location given. A stop at one of his safehouses was essential. He needed gear and a change into casual clothing. His academy uniform would stand out during the school day.

Green eyes gleamed in anticipation and his heartbeat quickened with the thought of the challenge ahead.

It took him two hours but he finally arrived at the long-disused campground in a state forest close to Gotham. A teeny tiny part of him crumbled when he spied the person waiting for him. Undaunted, but with a quickly buried twinge of disappointment.

The disappointment of a child wishing for his mother.

He knew better, of course. He had known who would be waiting. But there was always going to be that hope, that wish, for Talia. That love. No matter how much she had changed or how twisted she had become.

He easily recognized the person in League leathers waiting for him - covered and scentless but he knew the omega by stance alone.

He slipped out from behind a tree and silently approached the expectant figure. Teal eyes burned into him, evaluating every movement.

He opened his mouth to greet him, “Uk -”

A sharp word cut him off. An admonishment that the roles they were used to were different right now.

Damian paused and reassessed before bowing in respect. “Mudarris.”

“You know what you are here for.”

“To complete my Proving, Mudarris.” Damian stated, doing his best to mask the anxiety in his voice.

“Two tests completed. Two tests remain.”

He started. _Two?_ What else had he completed?

“ _Are you ready?"_

Damian nodded. “I will not fail you.”

Teal eyes softened only slightly, “Never, habibi.”

Before he could blink he was on the defensive. He rolled to escape a blow, popping up behind his teacher but not for long.

It was _grueling_. Every combat move he could conceivably know and few he couldn’t were tested systematically. His defenses, his strikes, his dodges, his falls: _everything_. His bruises were going to have bruises. He just knew it.

Eventually, though -

“Enough.”

Gods, it had better be. It’s not like his skills were already known. It’s not like he wasn’t readily showing off his hand to hand skills on a nightly basis as Robin, he mentally grumbled.

As he panted, struggling to regain the breath he had spent in such a pitiless exercise, his teacher calmly threw a sword at his feet. Unadorned; blunted edges. Practise weaponry, of course. Serious injury would never be risked, even in a Proving.

“When you’re ready.”

Damian knew better than to take that as a challenge and to accept the leeway with the grace it was intended. He took the time to actually catch his breath. To actually rest a moment. In return, he received a nod of approval.

That emotion was back, only to be ruthlessly squashed once again. He could not afford the distraction.

After a moment, he picked up the sword and fell into a familiar stance. Ready to face his last test.

The omega nodded in acknowledgment and fell into his own, ready to move.

Damian darted forward. Grinning, though he didn’t know it. He loved swordwork and wished that he was allowed more time to work on it by his father. It wasn’t very useful as a vigilante, especially with Batman's strict No Killing rule, so he wasn’t allotted much time for practice.

_He missed it._

This test was almost meditative as he was put through his paces. Defenses and attacks automatic, running on muscle memory and years of application. He knew he was rusty - he could feel it - but his movements flowed smoother the longer they sparred.

When the session was called to a halt, he felt only the slightest frustrations with his performance. Yet, he still knew he needed to figure out a way to get more time in. He needed to improve, not just maintain.

He and his teacher bowed to each other. “Your Proving is completed. You have passed all of your tests.”

“As if there was ever any doubt!” The boy scoffed.

Teal eyes crinkled in a still-hidden smile. “I have something for you.”

“What?” Damian asked, cautious.

The man walked away, taking the practice swords with him. He returned a moment later carrying another weapon. A very recognizable one, in its golden sheath with its sculpted hilt. A sword that used to hang on his grandfather’s hip.

Damian paled. “Where did you get that?!”

He could _feel_ the eye roll he received for the question. Obviously, it was retrieved from his grandfather; that wasn’t the actual question asked and the other knew it. He was just being difficult.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to, habibi.” The omega gently chided.

The boy’s stomach dropped. “Ukhai, you _didn’t…_ tell me you _didn’t go there!"_ He begged, a wave of fear gripping him at the thought of what could have happened to the omega. The things that could have been done.

“Hey, it’s okay, Dami. I’m fine!” He soothed, kneeling in front of the boy; showing him.

Damian didn’t hesitate to remove the League hood and mask, revealing Jason’s face for the first time.

“Why would you go back there?!” They both knew that if his grandfather had gotten his claws into Jason he’d never have let him go again.

“To keep you safe.” The omega admitted, “I’ll always do whatever I can to keep you safe.”

That meant -

Damian choked, “ _It was you!"_

Jason grimaced, “Let’s keep that between you and me, yeah?”

“Idiotic _thoughtless_ -” Warm arms swiftly pulled him into a tight embrace. Fingers curled into rough fabric as he shuddered. He could have lost this; lost _Jason_.

“Shh. It’s alright, pup.” Lips pressed against his forehead, soft and fleeting. “I’m fine and he’s gone. He can’t hurt any of us again.”

“You could have been captured. You could have _died_ , ukhai! _Again!"_

“But I _didn’t_. I’m here. I’m safe. _You’re safe._ That’s what matters.” Gentle hands soothed the pup, rubbing small circles on his neck and back. “This day is supposed to be about celebrating _you_ , habibi. Let’s do that, yeah?”

“ _Idiot_.”

“Yeah, okay.” Jason sighed. “I thought you’d like it. I can take it back.”

“ _Don’t you dare._ ” Voice already thick with emotion, the outrage almost got lost. He’d always coveted that sword and the omega knew it.

“See? Knew you’d like it.” Self-satisfaction infusing his tone.

Damian clicked his tongue but the effect was somewhat muted.

“Come on, kiddo. Let’s get changed and enjoy the rest of the day, yeah?”

“You’re not just sending me home?” The boy cursed himself for the sudden vulnerability in his voice. He’d thought he had better control than that.

“Nope.” Popping the P. “You’re mine for the weekend, brat. Just like you’re supposed to be. I cleared it with Alfie last week. I’m taking you to Macbeth tonight. Tomorrow we’re going to see the art museum in Metropolis. Sunday, the zoo.”

This time, Damian didn’t stomp out the hope and affection that filled his chest. The weekend after a Proving was traditionally to be spent with the pup’s dam. The pup’s omega. A time for bonding and celebration of coming of age with his primary caregiver.

“ _Ummi_.” He teased lightly.

Jason sighed theatrically and ran a hand through Damian’s hair. “Only for the weekend, yeah? B will lose his shit if you start calling me any League names.”

Like Damian didn’t know that. Like that hadn’t been watching what they said and how they acted around the other bats the _entire damn time_ they’d both been in Gotham. He rolled his eyes so hard it hurt.

“I see you’ve picked up another American gesture.”

“I think that one’s universal when one is dealing with you.” He deadpanned.

“Very funny, pup.” Jason huffed a quiet laugh and moved off to gather the gear. “Come on, habibi. We can get a nap in before dinner and the theater. I know you’re tired.”

A nap in Jason’s nest sounded perfect. And after, he’d drag every. single. detail. out of him.

**Author's Note:**

> [My Tumblr](https://primeemeraldheiress.tumblr.com/)   
>  [Garpie64](https://garpie64.tumblr.com)


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